


Where the Wildflowers Grow

by Nuinzilien



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Flower Power!, M/M, Pirates, Soooo much crack, crackity crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuinzilien/pseuds/Nuinzilien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An odd gift to the King of Greenwood leads to unexpected adventure</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Wildflowers Grow

**Author's Note:**

> The Corsairs are mine, but Middle Earth, Oropher, Thranduil and company belong to the Tolkien estate. No money made. *checks bank account* Nope, no money.

Oropher looked from the scraggly plant in his hands to the gap-toothed corsair grinning at him. "What sort of weed is this?"

The corsair chuckled, his fetid breath nearly knocking the poor king over. "Tis Star Fire, my Lord. My daughter grows it in her garden. She told me this one grew tallest and strongest, dominating over the others."

He looked back down at the plant. "And in return for this...gift?"

"Safe passage through the eastern straits."

Oropher was many things. Stupid was not one of them. "You mean turn a blind eye while you raid the riverside settlements."

The rogue's smile got wider, showing several rotted teeth.

"I cannot agree. Many of those settlements are mine, including the one you raided three months ago."

The corsair paled under his ruddy tan. He seemed to scramble for a way to salvage the negotiations. "Wait wait! We will stay south. We will not go past the Old Dwarven road!"

Oropher gave him a long, considering look. "Very well. You may pass through the straits unhindered. But if one of your ships goes ashore north of the Road, my sentries will shoot first and ask questions if there are survivors."

Pleased at having gotten his way, the corsair bowed and left.

Casting a disparaging look at the star fire plant in his hand, Oropher passed it to his attendant and summoned his next appointment.

~{@}~

Several days later, the king paid a visit to the arboretum. He strolled through row upon row of healthy, thriving plants, doling out gentle caresses here and whispering soft words there.

At the far end of the room, set apart from the others, was the star fire. Oropher walked up to it, frowning at how limp and wretched it was. He turned to the attendant. "Why? It may be a weed, but it still deserves a chance to survive. Why have you not tended to it?"

"I tried, my King!" he protested. "I transplanted it into our soil blend and gave it a root soaking, as you instructed. I had to keep it separated from the other plants to keep any sickness it may have from passing to them. I am at a loss!"

Oropher eyed the plant, then sighed and reached for a small pot. Ignoring the attendant's squawking protests that the royal hands should not soil themselves so, he unearthed the star fire and transplanted it into the pot. "I will take this one to my chamber. Perhaps it simply needs a different sort of sunlight."

~{@}~

Oropher arranged the star fire in the window of his sitting room. "There. Now you have new soil, an entire window to lord over, and a nice western exposure. Mayhap now your temperament will sweeten, hm?"

Greenwood's king tilted his head. If he wasn't mistaken, he was being sneered at. By a weed, no less!

He snorted, shaking his head at his own silliness. Bah! As if a plant, even a weedy one, would dare sneer at him!

~{@}~

Oropher's decision to move his gift proved to be a wise one. The change of scenery seemed to be what the star fire needed, because only days later, it had begun to perk, sending its roots deeper into the soil.

Thranduil sat with his father, sipping tea and discussing the goings on within the woodland realm. "I see the corsair's plant is adjusting to its new surroundings. What did he call it?"

"Star fire, though I have never heard of that breed. He said his iel grows it in her garden, and that this was the largest and healthiest of her crop."

Thranduil grunted. "Hm. It doesn't seem to be much to look at, does it? Granted, perhaps being dug up into a small pot and taken on a ship has left it shocked. But I cannot see it being a gift one gives a kin in return for his good graces."

Oropher chuckled. "I hear you, ion. But perhaps it is out of season still. I will hold off on dismissing it for now."

~{@}~

Over the next few weeks, Oropher's plant continued to strengthen under the King's care. Much to said King's surprise, it did indeed bloom, developing several lemony-yellow spiky flowers.

Thranduil stood beside Oropher and shook his head, hands on his hips. "Well alright then. We actually have a passably pretty weed."

Oropher swatted his shoulder. "Hush ion, lest the poor thing takes offense and wilts. Passably pretty is still pretty, and the Western blooms were an unexpected surprise."

Thranduil looked closer. "Why does the stem appear to be twisting?"

"Well," said Oropher, "I discovered that not only is it a pretty plant, but it is also a single-minded one. When I saw that all of the blooms had grown on one side - the side facing the West, I turned it, thinking that it simply needed the direct light to bloom. When I woke the next morning, I found that, instead of blooming on both sides, it just turned the blooms already open to face the sun." He shook his head. "The last time I was this puzzled, I was trying to follow the Noldorin line of Kings."

The prince chuckled. "I asked Elrond about that the last time we met. He said the only one who made sense was the one who stayed behind. Even he admits it is nearly impossible to figure out otherwise. Supposedly, the current king himself isn't sure how he got the throne. The only one who knows for sure is Cirdan, and he is keeping his own counsel."

"Elrond said that?" Oropher chuckled. "I find that hard to believe. The most interesting thing about that dry elf is his family history."

Thranduil shrugged. "Aye, Elrond the Herald is all business and no personality. Elrond the Elf, however...really quite droll, particularly after a few bottles of Gildor's best."

The king's brow arched. "You got him drunk, ion?"

The younger elf cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels. "How was I to know he was a lush? Alcohol has almost no effect on us., and Men drink their whiskey like mother's milk."

Oropher grunted. "Mmm...well, next time try to stick with nothing more potent than a strong tea. The last thing I need is a drunken, randy half-elf carousing through my lands."

~{@}~

**Ohhhh, dear Valar, I have seen better performances from a dwarven children's theater.**

Oropher's head jerked up. He looked down at the elf beneath him incredulously. "What?"

The young archer blinked up at him with wide, wary eyes. "I did not say anything, my King..."

The king eyed him, then returned to his task, much to the relief of his bed partner.

**Truly, tis a wonder you managed to produce an heir at all...**

Oropher growled and glared. "What are you implying exactly?"

The archer swallowed hard. "I s-said nothing, my King!"

"Do not lie to me! I heard it, and since you are the only other person in the room, it had to be you!"

"But I did not, my King, I swear it!"

Oropher scowled. "Get out!"

The now frightened elf gathered his clothes and ran, wondering if his King had lost his mind.

Sitting back on his heels in the middle of the bed, Oropher rubbed at his face and wondered the same thing. If he were honest with himself, he knew his unfortunate companion had been honest, and that he would need to do some serious making up to get back in his favor, else he'd get no peace...and no pleasure. Oropher cursed softly. He knew the voice had not been his. In fact, it had almost had the haughty tones of... "Gil-Galad...why, of all the elves on Arda, was I hearing that wretched crowing."

**Crowing?? How dare you! Hnnnng! Hnnnng! Hnnng-augh! DAMMIT!**

Oropher turned in time to see the star fire tumble from the window, the pot shattering on the floor below. He sighed and emptied a fruit bowl, picking his way through the pieces of broken terra cotta. "Delightful. First my room is haunted by the disembodied voice of a Noldorin idiot, and now my plant is suicidal. What next?"

**Idiot! Idiot! You will PAY for that, wood-elf! Just you wait! Damn these stupid... useless... VINES!**

Oropher stared at the star fire. "I really need to ask cook where she is getting the seeds for her bread." Gathering up as much of the soil as possible, he placed the star fire in a temporary bowl home. He placed it on the table and sat down, bringing himself nose to petals with it. "Alright, now either I am having a very clever drug-induced hallucination... or you are actually talking to me."

**Ohhh, figured that one out, did you? Fabulous. Now how about this next one: GET ME OUT OF HERE, YOU SINDARIN IDIOT!!!**

The guards outside traded nervous looks as their king's deep, from-the-belly laughter floated through the window.

**Oh aye, laugh. Laugh until you cannot BREATH, you slack-jawed cave troll! I *will* remember this!**

Oropher wound down to a few chuckles. "Oh, calm down. So tell me, how is it that a Noldo King - the bane of my existence - ended up as a weed in my bedroom window?"

The plant seemed to sigh. **I did not agree to allow them safe passage and gave the plant back.**

Oropher leaned forward, sobering. "Go on."

**They attacked me in my sleep. The corsair's daughter is a sorceress. I know not from whence her magic is derived, but she has somehow managed to discover a way to turn her father's enemies into plants. Not just binding the living essence to a plant, but changing the actual physical body into a harmless plant.**

He sat back in his chair. "How long have you been like this?"

**Tis hard to tell. Time seems to pass queerly. I would say... 2 months, perhaps? Likely long enough that my Advisors will begin to wonder, if they have not already.**

"I take it you were not in Lindon?"

**Nay. I was attempting to get a moment without someone coming up to me and saying 'but my king, what should we do?' Tis nearly impossible in a place like Lindon.**

Oropher nodded. "Not much easier here, to be honest. Even with an heir to delegate the more boring aspects of rule.*

**Hmm...I really should consider that. Elrond enjoys that sort of thing. The daily running of a town and the minutia of this person prefers to be asked about his wife, but this one takes offense...bah! Give me my spear and a battle field.**

The Sindarin king stood and began to pace. "Any idea how to reverse this?"

**Other than killing the witch? No idea.**

Oropher sighed and walked to the door, bellowing for his son.

Thranduil hurried in, pulling his robe on. "Aye, Ada?"

Oropher gestured him in and closed the door. He pointed to the star fire. "We have a problem."

The prince frowned. "The pot broke? That is your problem?"

"Nay, ion, the problem is with the plant. Or rather, whose spirit that plant holds."

Thranduil turned. "Spirit? Ada, what are you talking about?"

**He is talking about me, Thranny-pie. I believe that is how the scullery maids refer to you?**

"Gil-Galad?"

**Ahh, a clever one you are. Aye, I am he. And before you ask, the corsair's daughter is a sorceress.**

"And she bewitched you? Mmm...any idea of how to change you back?"

**Kill the one who cast the spell, I suppose.**

Thranduil blinked. "Kill her? How would we even know where to find her? Our best efforts to find their stronghold have come up with nothing so far."

**The isle of Tol Falas.**

"Tol Falas is uninhabited."

**If you are looking for large cities and fortresses, aye it is. But they work out of a long cave system. I could find it again.**

Thranduil sat back and rubbed his eyes. "So let me make sure I understand this. We sail into the heart of pirate waters, find this mysterious cave system, and what? Lay waste to it? We are talking about making war on the corsairs..."

"But what else are we to do, ion? As much as the Noldor annoy me, they are allies. We cannot allow the corsairs to believe they can go on as they have been, taking elves hostage, and turning royalty into houseplants."

"But how? We do not have the numbers."

"We do if we get the Men involved. Rohan and Gondor have as much to gain by ousting the Corsairs as we do."

Thranduil mulled it over. "It sounds absurd...elves and men joining together against a common enemy - it worked so VERY well last time - but... it could work. I will send out messengers first thing in the morning to Edoras and Minas Tirith. With any luck, we can sail within a month."

~{@}~

A month later, plans were made and armies mustered. Warriors from Greenwood and Rohan would meet up in Osgiliath, where they would restock, rest, and be joined by naval fleets from both Gondor and Arnor.

Against the counsel of his advisors, and much to Thranduil's dismay, Oropher insisted on riding the flagship into battle. He waved away protests for seemingly the thousandth time. "Another report came in this week of raiding along the coast."

"Aye, but still unverif-"

"I told him what would happen if he dared come ashore north of the Road. He did not heed my warning, and now these are the consequences. If you are concerned about leaving Greenwood with no ruler, then you may stay."

"Like hell. I will NOT leave your back unguarded."

"Then instead of arguing with me, perhaps you should be helping me decide on our plan of attack."

As far as Oropher was concerned, that was that.

~{@}~

The trip down the Anduin was mercifully quiet, much to the relief of the elves of Greenwood, many of whom had never developed sea legs.

Gil-Galad had proven to be invaluable, providing knowledge of the inner layout of the pirate stronghold. When asked how he knew, he could be heard grumbling with an irritated shake of his leaves 'she was proud of her little prize.'

In the end, the taking of the fortress proved to be quite easy. The corsairs were unprepared for an assault on their own territory. Despite this, they suffered relatively few casualties, most of them unwilling to die defending a scrap of ground.

The garden itself was easy to find. Oropher shivered. "I cannot help but wonder now, how many of these flowers once had arms and legs and families?"

"We are about to find out, my lord" said Anarion, Son of Elendil. "The witch herself has flown, but we have found an underground cave containing dozens of what appear to be fetishes. Our cleric said they may be what her magics are bound to."

Oropher nodded. "So destroying the fetish would destroy the magic."

He shook his head. "Yes and no. Destroying the fetish may destroy the magic... but if these fetishes 'represent' her victims, destroying the fetish may end up killing the ones you are trying to save."

The Sinda King frowned. "So we are back where we started. We know the who, the how, and the why of it, but we still do not know how to undo it."

Anarion held a whispered conversation with a balding man in robes. "The cleric says tis the link with the fetish that must be destroyed. It would be something personal, like a strand of hair or a comb with sentimental value. Anything that could hold the essence of someone."

Oropher reached for a small doll. "Of course, she could not be one of those tidy females who must label everything she touches..." He sighed, pulled out his boot knife, and said a small prayer asking forgiveness from whoever may be affected by what he was about to do.

He slipped his blade beneath the coiled strands of hair... and sliced through them. He waited for a long moment. Nothing. "Did it work?"

"Could be a lot of things, sir. Could be it did not work... or could be whoever it was is no longer he-" He was interrupted by a shout, followed by frantic waving from a guard across the garden. After a moment of conferring, a small cheer went up as a frail, skinny man was lifted from the ground.

"Alright!" Oropher began barking out orders. "Start cutting hairs and breaking personal effects! And for Valar's sake, be CAREFUL! We know not how long she has been doing this or who we may be killing by accident! If you are uncertain of what needs to be cut, leave it be and move on to the next!"

He looked over at row upon row of fetishes. Even with all of them working at it, going through them all would take hours. "Thranduil?"

"Aye, Ada?"

"If we wait until we've gone through all of them to proceed, we may lose our chance to cut off the snake's head. Take over here."

"Oh? And where do you think you are going?"

"To clear up some unfinished business with our corsair friends."

~{@}~

"What is the meaning of this, elf? Why do you attack us?" The Corsair King - if pirates could be said to have one - jumped to his feet. "We had a deal!"

Oropher stroke forward, seemingly unconcerned with the guards lining the hall. "Aye, we had a deal, and you were warned what would happen should your people break it."

"And we have not!"

"Oh? From the reports I received, your people have in fact stepped up in their raids on my villages. As far as I am concerned, that is a declaration of war."

"You cannot expect me to be able to control every rogue floating on the river!"

Oropher shrugged. "Your inability to maintain control over your people is your problem, not mine. I am here because you broke our agreement. And now you will die."

The Corsair King laughed. It was an ugly sound. "Are you so sure I will be the one to die? In case you have not noticed, you are outnumbered here, elf. Your people have grown soft and weak in their posh little tree houses! You do not stand a chance against REAL men!"

"Oh, I would suggest looking again, friend. I am not the one who is outnumbered here."

The corsair looked around, growing paler as all of his mercenary guards were disarmed. "Skulking around like common thieves and attacking from behind? How very...pirate of you."

Oropher smirked. "I thought you may appreciate that. So tell me again... who has the upper hand here?"

The corsair King scowled. "Bah! You hide behind your trees and let others fight your battles, weak King. I have been fighting my entire life! You would not last a moment in a REAL fight."

Oropher narrowed his eyes and pulled out his sword. "Care to test that theory? I was fighting in wars back when your grand sire was still in swaddling cloth sucking on his mother's saggy teat!"

"DIE!" The corsair pulled his blade and lunged for him.

Oropher moved into a defensive stance and re-evaluated his opponent. With as heavily muscled as the pirate was, he moved unexpectedly fast! But even so, it soon became apparent that he was still no match for finesse and centuries of honed fighting skill.

The fight quickly turned dirty as the pirate threw sand in Oropher's eyes.

"BASTARD!" The elf king blinked to clear his vision and roared in anger, lunging. His blade drove through the corsair's shoulder, rendering his sword arm useless. 

The pirate King dropped to his knees, clutching his shoulder.

"FATHER!" 

Oropher looked up at the feminine shriek. A woman - the corsair's daughter by the looks of her- sprinted toward them from a nearby hidden alcove, a small knife in her hand. She was close enough that no one would be fast enough to defend the now unarmed elf king.

The witch shuddered and stumbled to the ground. She looked down at the spear protruding from her chest, eyes wide. She turned to see Gil-Galad stalking toward her. "Y-you!"

The dark-haired king's smile was vicious. "Bitch, I told you we would meet again, and that you would die." 

"But..."

But Gil-Galad had already dismissed her, turning to Oropher. "You are cocky, Sinda. Evidently your ion was right when he said you needed someone to watch your back."

Oropher grunted and straightened. "I see months as a house plant did nothing to curb your own arrogance."

The High King shrugged and gestured to the pirate kneeling before them. "What of him?"

"Leave him to his own people. I am sure the Men of Gondor and Rohan know what to do with the likes of him. Nice throw, by the way."

Gil-Galad nodded graciously. "It was not as precise as it would be had I wielded my Aiglos, but the bitch is still dead."

"Aye. So now what will you do? Return home from here?"

The dark-haired elf sighed. "I suppose. No doubt Elrond is running Lindon just fine in my place, though."

Oropher eyed him. "Well...if you are not in too much of a hurry to return home, you are welcome to take your rest in Greenwood for a bit. I can suggest some quite pleasant hot springs for someone who may wish to relax in privacy."

Gil-galad's brow arched. "YOU are offering to let ME vacation in your territory?"

The Sindarin king stiffened. "This is a one-time offer, Noldo. I still think you are a smarmy brat."

Gil-galad smirked. "And you are still an uncivilized savage. We are in agreement, then."

"Aye."

Thus began an era of uneasy peace between the two elven realms, lasting until an unholy being named Annatar began to spread his sinister influence throughout the eastern lands...


End file.
